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“Maybe.” He waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’m done entertaining you now. My guards will see you out.” Semyon tips his head at them. Before he leaves the room, he stops in the doorway, his back still to me. “Make no mistake, Kim. If you or Lorcan come back here seeking anything from me, one of you will not make it out alive. I’m done with your nonsense. Whatever you’re after, you won’t find it here.”
Before I can say anything else, he’s out the door and down the hall.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and stand to leave. The primary guard touches his ear and holds up a hand. “Wait a minute.”
My fingers move to the gun inside my jacket.
At the door to the room, a familiar figure appears. I googled the whole family before coming here. This looks like one of Semyon’s sons, a younger, fitter version of his father.
“Hagen.” He enters the room with an almost catlike gracefulness.
“Kim.” I ease my hand out of my coat. If I rub him the right way, I wonder if he’ll purr for me. I keep my focus on him but don’t say anything else.
“I saw you here talking to my father the other day. You’re back again.” His gaze trails my figure in a possessive, lustful way I used to enjoy seeing. Men with that attitude never think with their brains.
“I am,” I reply breathily, giving him my best smile.
“Why exactly?”
There are a few things I could stroke right now which would draw the information out of him. Something in his eyes are both sinister and childlike. He’ll enjoy seeming like the expert. Ego, it is. “Your father took cash for a contract kill and never did it.”
“Eamon?” He raises an eyebrow. “We did it eventually.” Hagen shrugs. “The initial money wasn’t high enough. She needed to make a war worthwhile.”
“That means you didn’t fulfill the contract.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“So what changed, then? She didn’t pay enough, but you still killed him. That makes no sense.”
“We had a guarantee of no retaliation.”
“From who?”
Hagen smirks and bends forward. “From someone who could guarantee there would be no retaliation.”
“Lorcan.” I say his name as though he’s the obvious choice. My heart booms in my chest, but I keep my shoulders lowered.
“Lorcan,” Hagen scoffs. He eyes me for a beat. “Finn thought you’d get here, eventually. I guess I’d better call to let him know the jig is up.”
“No need.” A drop of sweat races along my spine. “I knew it was him. Carys told me. He told her. I told Finn I knew. We wanted to see if either of you would flip, if he could trust your family. He told me everything.” It’s a risk. If Finn knows I’ve been here before I can get back home, I’ll be met at the door by a gun to the head.
Hagen chuckles. “That sounds like him. I doubt he told you everything. He plays the odds. Trying to figure out who’s going to fuck him over. Guy’s paranoid.” He gives me a calculated look, and his eyes narrow. “You haven’t told Lorcan? Finn said you had him by the balls.”
“No one wants a war. I’m here to make sure one doesn’t get started by accident.”
He watches me for a beat longer than I’m comfortable with. “You’d better get out of here before my father changes his mind about letting you go. Or before I decide it’s worth having you stay.”
I’m not going to wait around for him to tell me twice. As I glide past him, his hand brushes my ass. “They’re lucky men.”
My instinct is to confront him, to stand my ground. I’ve spent years honing that instinct and tamping it down. In the grand scheme of things, I’m outnumbered, and he could do so much worse than grab my ass.
It doesn’t take long to get back to the Donagheys’ property. I’m lucky no one stops me for speeding. It’s the last thing I need right now. Although Hagen appeared to buy my story, I can’t be sure he hasn’t called Finn to confirm.
When I stride in the front door, a sense of relief spreads through me. There’s no sign of anyone except Jorge standing guard. With a wave, I head toward the kitchen. I need food before my stomach starts eating itself.
I’m buttering my toast when Finn wanders into the kitchen clutching his phone. The sight of him and his phone causes a sharp jolt of fear, and I straighten.
“I’m not sleeping worth shit.” He grabs a mug from the cupboard above me.